The Grassy Knoll
by snarkmcsnark
Summary: Munch retires (for real this time) and opens a bar, which serves as SVU's new hangout. Lots of after-hours drinking, brutal honesty and teasing, and surprise guests coming through the door.
1. It's Always Sunny in NY

_**AN** : So I've had this idea for months where I write a super casual, fun, light-hearted fic about our favorite SVU characters hanging out outside of work. Today, the idea of Munch's bar came to me and I just had to write it down, so here it is. It's going to feature mostly characters from seasons 13-17 because that's who I'm most familiar with. But depending on interest (yours and mine), I plan on featuring a lot of the regulars and guest stars from earlier seasons. In fact, a few 1.0 characters may be here to stay for good... Who knows? Anyway, this picks up after Surrendering Noah and it's set some time in August. I'll try to stick to canon as much as possible but some details have been changed, so I can keep some characters around._

 _Read, enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

 **The Grassy Knoll**

 **1\. It's Always Sunny in NY**

* * *

"How about Munchies?"

Fin Tutuola lowered his head and scowled. "Munchies? Sounds like a stoner's paradise to me. You sure that's the kind of people you want comin' here?"

Scratching the back of his ear, John Munch scrapped the idea and brainstormed other names for his new bar. Ever since he transferred from the Special Victims Unit to the District Attorney's office, he second-guessed his retirement. He always wanted to open up a bar – a nice joint that wasn't pretentious, but was a little classier than the places cops usually frequented. After about a year and a half working as an investigator at the DA's office, he learned that it was pretty much the same-old, same-old; so he finally forwarded his retirement papers and said sayonara to the detective life.

Less than a week later, he was walking down 43rd street close to the old 1-6 when he passed by an Irish tavern that was closing down. Owners were apparently getting out of dodge of the city and moving out to the country to raise bees and make organic soaps. It was a hole in the wall with just enough room for a bar on one side and some booths on the other; and maybe a pool table somewhere in the back. There were the usual – plumbing issues, bad electrical wiring, and a pest and rodent problem (but this was New York, so that last one was a given).

Needless to say, John took the train home that day a couple hundred thousand dollars poorer, but his heart felt richer knowing he was finally getting that bar he wanted. He called his old partner and Fin jumped at the chance at being 'top' investor. It made him sound important and it made him feel like he could call the shots. He didn't like doing it at the precinct, but if it involved alcohol in any way, then he was down with making decisions.

After hiring fumigators, electricians, and plumbers to take care of the bare minimum, John and Fin recruited the help of some old friends to repaint the old tavern. Ripping out the wood paneling, they discovered some brick and decided to keep it; painting the rest of the walls a dark gray. They ripped out the green light fixtures that made the place feel too New York Public Library; and replaced them with these energy-efficient LEDs that one could adjust to create some interesting mood lighting. John thought it was a gimmick, but Fin thought it was _dope_ (mostly because his partner taught him how to figure out the controls and he got it down faster than he got the internet).

John leaned against the bar and studied the barren space for some inspiration. He really needed to come up with a name for this place if he wanted to open by the end of the month. He didn't want anything with tavern, pub, or alehouse at the end. He didn't want some clever pun either. But he wanted something that was quintessentially Munch; it was his bar after all and there weren't very many times in his life when he let his vanity take the driver's seat.

"Where do you want these?"

The two men looked up from the bar to see Nick Amaro walk in carrying a box of glassware. He blinked back, trying to divert the course of sweat dripping from his brow.

John pointed to the back of the bar. "Just leave 'em there, kid."

Nick gently placed the box down by the corner, before getting up to wipe his forehead with the sleeve of his t-shirt. He glanced down to check the scratched-off names on the notepad. He read over _Munchies_ and stifled a laugh. "I'm telling you, you should call it _The Office_. So when anyone asks where you're going or where you came from, you can just tell them _The Office_ and you wouldn't be lying."

"And this is why you're divorced," John pointed out.

"It's a good idea." Nick looked over at Fin and cocked his head to the side. "Tell him."

Fin shrugged. "It's all right. Don't think it fits this place though."

Nick shook his head and started for the door, but Fin stopped him. "Yo, Amaro, you seen my partner lately?"

John snickered, exchanging a knowing look with Fin before they waited for an answer. Nick opened his mouth but couldn't find the words. Thankfully, Amanda Rollins appeared through the doorway, Frannie on one hand and her other hand casually placed on Nick's shoulder. "Hey y'all," she said, her brows knitting in confusion when the two older men were laughing to themselves while Nick looked back at her awkwardly. "What's going on?"

Nick pointed out the door with his thumb. "Just picking up the last few boxes."

When he disappeared, Amanda slid on the bar stool beside her partner and gave him a puzzled look. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing," Fin said, putting his arms up in surrender. "I just asked him if he's seen you."

"I don't get it," John started. "He's transferring departments in September so there's no point in you two hiding your relationship –"

"—What?" Amanda reared her head back in feigned shock. Her cheeks were flushed and her palms felt clammy. Laughing it off, she said defensively, "There's nothing going on between me and Amaro."

John shook his head at her denial, bending to pat the dog on the head. "I like her, but you do know once this place is open, she can't come in here without a valid ID."

Amanda sighed, pretending to be hurt that her dog wasn't being treated like a human being.

After catching up for a bit (and not talking about her not-so-furtive relationship with Nick), Amanda and Fin started working on the alcohol list for the bar. She brought her laptop with an Excel spreadsheet of the next month's orders and explained to Fin how after the first week, they could get better estimates of how much to order from their suppliers.

As Nick returned back into the bar with another box in hand, another man who had his hands full joined him inside. "Hey, guys," said Sonny Carisi, tilting his head up to greet Fin and Amanda. He set the box down behind the counter right by where Nick told him it should go. Then he reached over to shake John's hand. "Sonny Carisi. Call me Sonny."

"No one calls you Sonny," Amanda blurted out, not veering her eyes away from the screen. He shrugged his shoulders and pouted.

"John Munch. You can call me Yoda," Munch replied, shaking the kid's hand. Everyone else in the room chuckled as Sonny wasn't exactly in on the joke. "Thanks for helping out, Sonny."

Pleased that someone had finally called him by his nickname, he smiled appreciatively at John before turning to Nick to ask if there was anymore manual labor they could do. As the two men returned outside to flex their muscles and to move in some furniture, Amanda tried to explain basic accounting to Fin. Meanwhile, John sat at the bar and continued to mull over the list of potential names. He tapped his pen on the notepad and adjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose. There were a couple of standouts, but nothing had felt quite right.

The aroma of cheese, tomatoes, and bread filled the room and John turned to see the warm smile of Olivia Benson. He got off the stool and walked towards her to take the box of pizza and set it down on the bar. Pulling her into a hug, he greeted her. "Glad you could make it. Where's the little one?"

"He's with Lucy, watching a Thomas the Tank Engine marathon," Olivia explained with a shrug. "He wouldn't even peel his eyes away from the TV when I tried to say goodbye."

Fin left his spot to walk over to the pizza, lifting the lid to check what was inside. "No spinach on kale on this pizza, sarge? I'm impressed."

"Well, I knew I wasn't ordering for myself," she replied, pursing her lips. When Fin tried to reach in for a slice, she smacked his hand away and gave him a Badass Benson stare. "Wait until everyone's at the table."

"So, how have you been?" John asked Olivia once Fin had begrudgingly returned to his accounting lesson. "Congratulations again on finalizing the little guy's adoption."

"Thank you, John," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "It's been great at home; I'm getting lots of support from Lucy and Nick… But you know, with him gone on medical leave for the summer and his transfer out to Homicide in September, I'm understaffed. So it's been stressful but I'm managing to keep my head above water."

"You're doing a great job, Olivia. Much better than I if I were in your position."

She smiled kindly at him and then looked past his shoulder to greet Nick and Sonny, who had just walked in with bar stools tucked under each arm. "Everyone's here. Maybe we can get started on the pizza."

"I thought Captain was coming," Amanda wondered out loud.

Olivia turned to the blonde detective. "Their flight got cancelled so their travel agency booked them an extra night in Cancun."

"Ah, now there's someone who knows how to do retirement right," John exclaimed, pointing his pen in the air.

Fin clapped. "Time for pizza."

"Yeah," Sonny joined in, setting the stools down and heading straight for the white box.

Olivia's phone rang and she looked down at the screen before picking up. "Counselor? Calling on a Saturday?"

Everyone looked up, recognizing the title and knowing that she was speaking to ADA Rafael Barba. Olivia held a hand up to excuse herself, walking toward the kitchen. While she was in there, the rest of the team (both current and former members) dug into the pizza. John marveled in both awe and disgust as Fin took four bites and was practically down to the crust. Sonny sat between Nick and Amanda, who both looked annoyed by the intrusion; still they managed to steal a few glances that didn't go unnoticed from John's seat at the bar.

While they were enjoying their meal, there was a knock on the doorframe. John squinted his eyes and saw a young woman with dark blonde hair. "Can I help you?"

Everyone turned to the unexpected visitor, who was holding a sheet of paper in her hands. She took a step forward and studied John for a second, then she shook her head and smiled. "I'm sorry… I saw the help wanted sign outside."

"Yes, yes," John said quickly, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Are you applying as a cook or a bartender?"

"Bartender," she answered. "I worked in my college's campus bar during my senior year. I know it's not a lot of experience, but I have a great memory and I can make pretty much any drink you can name off the top of your head."

"Sounds good to me," Amanda quipped, taking a sip of her beer.

John looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. "That your résumé?"

She smacked her forehead and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, handing it over. "Like I said, I know I don't have a lot of experience working at a bar. But I do have my Bachelors in Psychology and I'd like to think that helps me better socialize with people, and build up a base of regulars."

John lowered his glasses and looked at the name on top of the résumé. "Elizabeth Stabler?" He whispered to himself then he looked up, his eyes wide and his mouth opening in surprise. "Lizzie?"

"I knew it!" Fin exclaimed, pointing at the girl. "I knew you looked familiar."

Her hand flew over her mouth. "See, I thought you were Detective Munch… and Fin," she said, turning to him. "I just didn't want to say anything in case I was wrong."

Nick, Amanda, and Sonny exchanged looks of confusion. Even Frannie sounded like a discombobulated Scooby Doo as soon as Lizzie walked in.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. "My dad is not going to believe this!"

Just then, Olivia emerged out of the kitchen with her phone in her hand. "That was Barba. He said he had to drop off some files for the Nichols case, and I told him to meet us here, if that's all right with you, John?" She turned her head toward him, but her eyes drifted off to the young blonde in the purple sundress. In her complete surprise, she took a step back and had to brace herself on the bar. "Lizzie?"

"Olivia! Oh my god! It's you!" She ran around the bar and nearly tackled her in a hug, catching Olivia off-guard, but the sergeant quickly recovered as she languidly wrapped her arms around the girl. "My dad is going to flip!"

"Elliot," Olivia stated, his name coming out of her lips like she was answering a question on a game show. She was still not getting over the initial shock of seeing one of the Stablers for the first time in over four years. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she felt like everyone in the room could hear it. So, she spoke before thinking and before she could even ask herself if she wanted to know the answer to her question. "Where is he?"


	2. The Theory of Nothing

**AN:** _Hey! Before jumping in to chapter two, I want to say thank you to all the lovely people who left reviews, followed, and fav'd this fanfic. Thank you so much! One guest reviewer asked for limited use of the Stablers, and I want to get my readers' thoughts on that... This chapter will feature quite a bit of Stabler discussion though just because the first chapter left that question re: his whereabouts up in the air. But we'll see everyone else's reactions (and I hope you'll like it because that was my favorite part writing this). Anyway, I promise the next chapters will be more about the inter-squad camaraderie._

 _Please read, enjoy, and review!_

* * *

 **The Grassy Knoll**

 **2\. The Theory of Nothing**

* * *

"Where is he?" Olivia regretted the question as soon as it slipped, fearing Lizzie would tell her Elliot was waiting right outside. Not that the alternative – her former partner shacked up in their Queens home with his wife – was any better. There really was no answer Lizzie could give her that was going to put her mind and heart in a state of calm. It would just end up stirring more questions inside her head. And after four years of trying very hard to stop wondering about the where and why of Elliot's exodus (and being marginally successful on most days), she really didn't want to have to start the process of forgetting all over again.

Moments ago, Lizzie was bouncing on the balls of her feet, her eyes glazing over with excitement. But upon being asked about the location of her father, she looked puzzled. "You don't know?"

Olivia's brows creased. She glanced over her shoulder to see the equally confused expressions on her team's faces. "No, Lizzie. Should I?"

The young girl reared her head back and crinkled her nose. "I thought you and my dad were staying in touch."

 _We most certainly have not_ , Olivia almost blurted out. But she wanted to broach the subject delicately just in case Elliot lied to his daughter. She didn't want to sound bitter. And she didn't want to be responsible for getting her old partner in trouble with Lizzie, even though he most definitely deserved it. Deciding she had no other choice but to tell her the truth, she reluctantly admitted, "I haven't spoken to your dad since he put in for his retirement."

"What?"

Olivia nodded, casting her a sympathetic look.

"B-b-but after the divorce, he promised he was going to call you."

Olivia's lids slowly fluttered open as her brain tried to register all the new and overwhelming information in that one stammered sentence. A divorce? A promise to call her? A promise to whom?

"Are you sure he hasn't tried to call you?" Lizzie asked. "When I see him on the phone talking to someone, I've always assumed it was you on the other line."

The hushed voices in the background were distracting. She could hear her name and Elliot's being mentioned as her team eavesdropped on the conversation. Olivia sighed and pulled the girl toward the far corner of the bar, close to the window looking out to the street. Leaning toward Lizzie, she whispered, "Why would he make you think he was talking to me?"

Lizzie shrugged with nonchalance. "We wanted him to get his life back in order and we told him the first step was to come to you and apologize for leaving so abruptly."

"We?"

"Me, Dickie, Kathleen, and Maureen," she answered. "I'm sure Eli would've joined the campaign too if he was old enough to see how much losing you affected him." Olivia was tempted to correct her. Elliot didn't lose her; he made a choice to quit and drop off the face of the earth without telling her. Sure, there was the Semper Fi necklace. But _always loyal_ was just an engraving; it didn't actually mean anything otherwise he would've given her the courtesy of saying goodbye in person.

The young girl squinted her eyes and studied her carefully. Olivia felt like she was under the microscope, which she didn't appreciate as she was worried Lizzie would report her reaction back to her father. Keeping her expression stoic, she pondered what Lizzie meant when she spoke about how Elliot was affected when he lost her. She was curious, but she knew better than to ask and open up a whole new can of worms.

Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "So, you're saying he was lying to us about calling you and mending your relationship just so we'd get off his case?"

Olivia placed her palms up, relinquishing any responsibility for the situation. This was Elliot's lie and she wasn't going to get tangled up in it. "I don't know what your dad told you, but I haven't heard from him in years." She paused and chewed on her lip. "Lizzie, by any chance, do you think this could've all been a misunderstanding? I just don't see why Elliot would lie to you about this."

"Even after all these years of not hearing from him, you're still covering for my dad," Lizzie said, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Partners for life, huh?"

* * *

Rafael's arrival at Munch's bar was not what he was expecting. A small crowd had gathered and faced the door, causing him to freeze upon entering, his head rattling from the sudden stop. But strangely enough, no one had their eyes fixed on him; rather, they were all directed to the left side of the door where Olivia was deep in conversation with a young woman with sandy blonde hair. As he approached the squad, John Munch was the first to acknowledge him.

"Counselor, nice of you to join us."

Looking around the bar, he noted the misplaced furniture and stacks of boxes. The place looked like it needed some help, especially if what he heard was right and John was planning on opening at the end of the month. But he wasn't here to give these guys a reality check; he was just here to go over deposition files with Olivia and then he was off to the North East River Yacht Club. He shook John's hand and turned his attention to the show everyone else seemed to be quite invested in. "What's going on over there?"

Without breaking his stare, Fin spoke up, "That's Stabler's kid."

Rafael's eyes grew in surprise. While he'd never had the 'privilege' of meeting the infamous Elliot Stabler, he'd heard his fair share of stories about Olivia's former partner. He wondered what the girl could possibly be doing here after her father deliberately lost contact with his partner. Could she be bringing bad news? Maybe those rumors of Elliot becoming a hermit were true. And maybe he finally met his match in a North American Grizzly Bear.

"What's she doing here?"

"She saw the sign and came in to drop an application," said Nick.

"And she had no idea that her dad's old squad would be here," Amanda added.

Sonny scrunched his brows and piped up (loud enough that Olivia gave them hard looks from over her shoulder). "What's this Stabler guy's story anyway?"

Rafael rolled his eyes as everyone else turned to Sonny to frown at him for being so out of the loop.

"New guy," Fin chuckled, drawing out laughs from everyone but poor Sonny.

Olivia twisted around with her hands on her hips, throwing a badass Benson stare at her squad.

Turning back to Lizzie, Olivia's voice became quieter as she spoke. Amanda propped her elbows on the table and watched the scene play out in front of her. "What do y'all think they're talking about now?"

Rafael crossed his arms over his chest and tried to see the expression on Olivia's face, which was difficult to observe when he could only see her profile. The only time she ever looked that startled was when they had a legitimately disturbing case. So whatever Lizzie was telling her must have been seriously alarming.

"She might be telling Benson that her father fought a bear with his own two hands in the forests of Wyoming," Rafael hypothesized. "And judging by the looks on their faces, my guess is Stabler lost."

"See, Counselor," Nick began, "My theory is that he got conned into joining a cult so he went underground to live in a bunker. But then they were attacked by the mole people and he's been held in captivity ever since."

"Nah." Amanda waved her hand dismissively at Nick's face. "He probably took a Mandarin class with all that time off and gained some connections with the Chinese underworld. Dude got into deep and now he's probably somewhere in Africa cracking the whip in an illegal drilling operation."

"Or his wife finally shot him." Fin shrugged.

"Why do you all think Elliot's dead?" John asked, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. "Clearly, the man traveled to New Mexico and was abducted by aliens and now he's trapped in the fourth dimension."

They all turned to Sonny, waiting for him to spit out a theory even though he was practically clueless on the topic of Elliot Stabler. If this were a Jeopardy category, this would be the part where Sonny would go into the negative thousands. He stammered and tilted his head to the side. "Maybe the guy just didn't want to see his partner because he was in love with her all those years."

"Yeah…" Munch trailed off, smacking Sonny on the back of the shoulder. "Word of advice, kid - if you want to keep your job or your family jewels, I wouldn't let Liv hear you say that."

* * *

The free show was over.

After Lizzie left, everyone hounded Olivia with questions. Of course, no one mentioned the ridiculous theories regarding Elliot's absence. They weren't stupid; they weren't going to sabotage their interrogation and risk not getting the dirt. But it didn't matter anyway because Olivia was keeping her lips sealed on all matters related to her former partner. All she said was that Lizzie recently graduated from college, and with the poor job market and an English degree she didn't know what to do with, she _really, really_ needed the job.

But as much as she wanted to help the girl out, Olivia admitted she was a little nervous about John hiring her. It was one degree of separation with Elliot; and at this point in her life, it was one degree too much.

She couldn't help but feel curious though. Lizzie went on this elaborate tale of her parents' messy divorce, which happened less than a year after his unforeseen retirement. Kathy thought the silver lining of the shooting was her husband leaving his job. She thought surrendering his badge and his loyalty to his old partner would save their marriage, but it turned out her husband was even more of a mess sans career. So, she set the divorce papers down with his breakfast of Cheerios and beer. And the next day, he packed his bags and moved into a one-bedroom shanty a few miles from Lake Carmel.

According to Lizzie, the place was off a dirt road and he didn't have WiFi or decent service in the area, so they hardly visited. But after a couple of months, her father seemed to be on the mend and he got a satellite hooked up and he was connected to the world once again. That was when they encouraged him to get back in contact with Olivia.

Lizzie also told her about Elliot's burgeoning outdoorsy hobbies like fishing and skeet shooting. He was also growing an obsession for brewing his own Pilsners, which Lizzie declared weren't half-bad considering beer wasn't always her first drink of choice. The fact that Elliot's youngest daughter was legally old enough to drink struck a bitter chord with her; she didn't feel particularly pleased to be reminded of her age.

Olivia was supposed to be pissed off that Elliot lied to his kids about keeping in contact with her just to appease them. She was supposed to be infuriated that he wasn't six feet under and he had all the means to call her. She was supposed to be flying off the handle because he had all this time on his hands to brew _fucking_ Pilsners, and yet he never once reached out to her after that William Lewis saga.

But in spite of all that, Olivia couldn't help that gnawing feeling in her gut that she wanted to see Elliot's transformation firsthand.

Once the gang had given up trying to cross-examine Olivia, Rafael turned to matters at hand. He pulled the files from his briefcase and set them down on the counter. Olivia sighed, seeing the yellow folder. Sometimes the work of a commanding officer just never ended; and she was momentarily jealous of retired John, and even Nick who was on leave for a leg that had healed a month ago. He was usually begging like a puppy to get back to work, but with his impending transfer to a new division and the distraction of the bar opening, he was milking the injury for all it was worth.

"I'm going to put stuff away in the back," Nick announced to everyone.

"I'll help." Amanda stood up quickly from her spot. She cast an insincere apologetic glance at her partner before following Nick behind the bar toward the kitchen.

"Need another set of hands?" Sonny asked in the middle of wiping tomato sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"No!" The not-so-clandestine couple yelled out in unison. Nick reached into his pocket and tossed a set of car keys at Sonny. "Do me a favor, man, and take the truck back to the dealer. Thanks."

And with that, the two lovebirds disappeared into the back, leaving Sonny tickled pink because he was entrusted with a task that felt pretty damn important. With a grin on his face and a spring in his step, he walked out to the summer sunshine.

In one of the booths, Fin was hunched over the laptop, furiously clicking and knitting his brows in confusion as he tried to make sense of Amanda's spreadsheets. All they heard was a loud "Oh shit" before he slammed the laptop shut and pushed it aside. Covering his face with his hand, he slumped down the leather seat so far he was practically under the table. When John asked him what was wrong, he just shook his head with a glazed look in his eyes. "I think I might've just found my partner's home movies."

After John cracked a joke about civil liberties, he returned to working on the list of potential names. He would write something down and ten seconds later, he would scratch out every trace of it like the idea was so terrible he didn't want to risk anyone seeing it in the trash. In the middle of crossing out Apollo 11, he released a heavy breath. He wasn't going to name his bar after a manned lunar landing that was staged by the government to showboat the Soviets. He wasn't going to name it after a political scandal from the seventies, when the presidency was breaking and entering into the DNC. He needed something that was along that track, but a little less overt. He was running a business, so he couldn't afford to alienate customers with a name that was too controversial.

The ADA went over the files with the sergeant, but her mind was elsewhere thinking about the unexpected run-in with Lizzie. Rafael must have noticed her head wasn't in the game because he stopped speaking about the case, and instead studied her with interest. "Benson, we can discuss the deposition another time."

"No, it's fine," she said, placing her hand on his wrist. "I'm sorry. Where were we?"

Rafael pulled his arm away. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing we can't take care of first thing Monday morning," he assured her, closing the folder.

"I'm glad you stopped by and finally saw the bar," she admitted, sounding a little more bashful than she would have liked. Rafael gave her a faint smile in response and started collecting his things. Olivia sighed. Just because they were postponing their work didn't mean he wasn't welcome to stay, hang out, and enjoy whatever pizza they had left. Then again, this was Rafael Barba and he didn't seem like the type to hang out and help the guys with manual labor. "You could stay," she offered. "I think we'll need to order more pizza though."

"Thanks –" Rafael began to say, but he was interrupted by a series of crashes of metal on tile from the kitchen.

When the noise stopped, they heard a female voice hissing, "Shhh!"

Olivia and Rafael exchanged a look.

John looked up from his list and craned his neck toward the kitchen. "Everything all right back there?"

There was some muffled giggling before Nick finally shouted back, "Yeah, knocked over some pots and pans. No biggie."

"Biggie?" Rafael mouthed, his brows creasing. Olivia shrugged her shoulders and smiled. It must have been something Nick picked up from his eight-year-old daughter, who was living with him all summer. "Do they know we know?" Rafael asked.

"They're still in denial," Olivia replied. "I think they like sneaking around, actually."

"It's not sneaking around if everyone knows," Rafael argued.

"Ah, they're young and in love," John sighed wistfully. "Leave them be."

He circled something in his notepad and brought it to their attention. "Anyway, I've decided on a name for the bar." He mimed a marquee with his hands and beamed with pride. "The Grassy Knoll."

"I liked Munchies better," Fin complained. "I'mma keep calling it that."

"You're going to name this place after the location where JFK was assassinated?" Rafael asked, his eyes blinking slowly in incredulity.

John placed his hands together and pouted. "Not so much the location, but the metaphor behind it. There's an expression – _you'll find all your answers on the grassy knoll_. I'm hoping most of my patrons will find the answers they're looking for in the bottom of their five-dollar bottle of domestic beer."

Olivia shook her head with a smirk. "Cap better not hear you say that."


	3. Hey, Gossip Girls

**AN:** _Hey! Long time no see... Before I start, I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter two and gave feedback on the use of Stabler. Really appreciate all the comments and please feel free to keep them coming (I am as thirsty for reviews as the squad is thirsty for gossip). I tried spreading this chapter out a little more to include more of the squad. Someone asked about what Fin saw in Amanda's laptop and that question will be answered. Also, if you watch HTGAWM, you'll notice that I kind of write Carisi the same way Asher Millstone is characterized on that show (idk, but I think it's super endearing and the 'cluelessness' kind of helps with the exposition). Enough chit chat and on to chapter three... Please read, enjoy, and review!_

* * *

 **The Grassy Knoll**

 **3\. Hey, Gossip Girls**

The night before the opening, the squad pulled up some extra chairs and squeezed into a corner booth. There were still numbers to crunch and a stack of menus to laminate; but it was nothing they couldn't do the next morning, provided they weren't feeling the aftereffects of heavy drinking. It helped having John Munch as the boss because he usually didn't mind if they deviated from the timeline. That, or he was just really skilled at the art of concealing his frustration. While the retired sergeant still had concerns about the list of errands that needed to be crossed off, he thought it was more important to celebrate with the group and thank them for their support before The Grassy Knoll opened to the public.

As far as his business partner, Fin, was concerned, they could have opened that night and started raking in the money. They had the drinks lined up along the mirrored wall, the sound system hooked up, and the bathrooms well stocked with toilet paper and hand soap (this was a classy establishment, John diligently reminded them). Fin was eager to flip the switch on the neon sign hanging by the window; but he finally conceded when he learned Captain Donald Cragen promised to stop by. That night felt too much like Sunday family dinner to be disrupted by random passersby in search of a drink. Keeping the lights down low, the squad gathered around the table and feasted on Chinese take-out from around the corner and pitchers of beer that were sure to mess up their initial numbers.

Don finally made it out to see the bar. Unfortunately, his significant other, Eileen, was feeling under the weather and unable to join him. Or so they were told. Fin figured captain was just trying to come up with an excuse so his lady friend would be spared from the gruesome shoptalk that could turn into downright raunchy banter with the snap of a finger. Usually, if he took Eileen out to spend time with his former unit, it was somewhere classier like one of Olivia's dinner parties.

But with Eileen supposedly curled up under the covers and sated with sleepy time cold medicine, it gave the team the perfect opportunity to grill their old captain. First on the docket was his recent trip to Mexico, where they learned Don spent most of his days cooped up in an outdoor cabana bed.

"I burn easily," he justified, pointing to the absence of hair on his scalp. He, then, pulled out his phone and swiped through a few overexposed pictures of their trip, including one where he was dressed in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and straw hat while sipping on a fruity cocktail.

"Great look, cap," Amanda said with a teasing smile.

"Did you do anything fun while you were down there?" Nick asked. "Snorkeling? Parasailing? Swimming with the dolphins?"

Don rubbed the back of his neck and replied with a timid smile. "Eileen wanted to do some of the more – uh, how would you say – romantic excursions. But, I admit, I didn't clue in, so I spent most of my time in the cabana."

"I could really use that sort of vacation and just sleep for twelve hours straight," Olivia sighed, her voice laced with the exhaustion typical of a career woman and mother of a toddler. She had just learned the promotions ceremony was coming up next month and she needed to fill in some last-minute paperwork if she wanted to make that jump to lieutenant. Of course, she wanted to advance in the department; but she didn't appreciate the fact that it had been Ed Tucker steering her in that direction. On top of the daily stresses of the job, Noah was fast approaching the terrible twos, and her once-sweet, little boy was now terrorizing every square foot of her apartment.

"I wasn't asleep the entire time," Don countered slightly defensive. He looked down at the bottom of his glass of club soda and studied the bubbles floating to the surface. "I finally got around to reading some of Peter James' books."

"And your lady was cool with that?" Fin asked, raising a brow.

The retired captain swished the liquid in his glass before setting it back down on the table with a heavy sigh. "No, she wasn't… And I was too absorbed in my book to realize she's the type of vacationer who actually likes to _do_ things while on vacation. But I think I made up for it when I scheduled a beachfront couple's massage on our last night."

"Now that's more like it." Fin chuckled and raised his beer bottle to toast. "Good for you, cap. Finally getting some action."

"Fin, be kind. He's only been abstinent since the Cold War," John teased, eliciting laughs from everyone around the table.

Now that Don was back in the city, he hoped to be able to relax much like he did in Cancun. But reality didn't change just because he had a little more sun and a little less knots on his lower back. Being at home and having no job to drive to in the mornings made him feel as if he wasn't being productive. And for someone who worked tirelessly for the NYPD for decades, idleness was something he never imagined he could ever get used to.

Eileen suggested he join a book club and use his experience working for the force to offer insight on the crime fiction novels he enjoyed. But Don was wary of this idea because part of the reason why he enjoyed reading this genre in the first place was the satisfaction he got from pointing out the flaws and inconsistencies. He could wager a guess and say that most people at book clubs didn't appreciate the know-it-alls who focused on the technicalities. So, next, Eileen suggested he sign up for classes at the local rec center. Don was reluctant, thinking that place was for retired folks in their sixties and seventies (basically, people like him). Eventually, he agreed and signed up for a gardening class, which he ended up loving and winning him brownie points with his lady.

"John, were you thinking of doing a seasonal menu?" he asked, turning to one of his oldest and dearest friends. "I grow the most delicious butternut squash that would make a perfect base for a seafood bisque."

Olivia's forehead creased as she carefully considered the new, more relaxed version of her old boss. "Who are you and what have you done to Captain Cragen?"

* * *

Fin tried his best to avert his eyes from what was happening across the table. Nick and Amanda sat beside each other, but not closer than anyone else so it wasn't like it was suspicious. But Fin couldn't help but be hyper aware of their behavior, especially after seeing that video on her computer. He caught Nick's hand dropping from the edge of the table, the flex of muscle on his bicep, and the look of surprise in Amanda's eyes. As she bit down on her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed to a deeper shade of pink. The 'secret' couple tried to play it cool, but every time someone was talking and grabbing the attention of everyone else on the table, Nick and Amanda would sneak looks and make sex eyes at each other.

Normally, this wouldn't bother Fin too much. After all, he was the first to suspect that his two co-workers were doing the nasty. To be fair, he wouldn't have predicted they would've lasted this long, knowing they were two of the most stubborn people he had ever worked with. It wasn't like he had a problem with them hooking up; he was actually happy for his partner that she was finally with a guy he trusted would treat her well. His problem was the unforeseen awareness of what they were doing, which arrived not long after he accidentally stumbled upon one of Amanda's home movies. How was he supposed to know that a folder labeled 'spreadsheets' would contain a file that wouldn't open with Excel?

Thankfully, Fin had only seen the first five seconds of the video before he pounded on the keys in search of the escape button. It's always on the top left, he reminded himself (for the _next time_ he prayed would never happen). Regardless, it was still five seconds too long. Five seconds of a camera slowly panning over a woman's (surprisingly) voluptuous ass and zooming out to reveal Amanda on her stomach. Nick's voice, a few octaves lower, came on toward the end and asked her if she was ready. _Ready for what?_ The ambiguity alone made him shudder.

He could go out on a limb and say Amanda must've been into some kinky shit. He wouldn't judge. After all, he's had his fair share of unconventional sexual experiences. He would've probably tried making a sex tape at one point with one of his ex-girlfriends, but that would've required him to know how to work a video camera. And he just didn't have the patience for that. But straight-laced Nick Amaro – the guy who once argued against people taking naked pictures of themselves – was now co-starring in his own porno. _Damn_ , his partner must've done a number on the choirboy.

* * *

In the middle of their second round of pitchers, a ringing phone interrupted the lively conversation about the most moronic moves pulled by suspects during an interrogation. Sonny was in the middle of a story about a suspected Staten Island hit man, when a ringing phone interrupted him. Rafael reached into his jacket to retrieve the phone. Glancing down at the screen, he muttered a curse word under his breath before he excused himself. Not long after leaving the table, he answered. "Rita, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Sonny slapped his hands on the table, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Rita? As in Rita Calhoun?"

"The defense attorney?" Fin added, furrowing his brows.

"No, Rita Hayworth," Munch cheekily replied.

Amanda craned her neck to get a better view of the ADA on his phone, but he had his back turned to them so she couldn't quite read his lips or the expression on his face. "Barba and Calhoun – I heard they have history,"

"Where'd you hear that?" Nick asked, a little offended his down-low girlfriend hadn't shared this juicy piece of information.

She shrugged in response, but Olivia answered for her. "They both graduated from the same class at Harvard. I heard they weren't exactly friends –"

"—As opposed to the warm and affectionate bond they have now," Nick sarcastically replied.

Olivia glared at him before she continued. "They've always been competitive in law school and it's carried over, after all these years, to the courthouse."

"You really believe it was just about one-upping each other in the bar exam and the courtroom?" John asked with a hint of wry amusement.

"More like one-upping each other in the bedroom," Sonny quipped, raising his hands up for high fives that were never returned. "Am I right? Come on, guys…"

Fin shook his head at the new guy before he raised his chin at Olivia. "What else do you know?"

Everyone leaned in, thirsty for gossip. But the sergeant shook her head and wagged her finger – something she would normally do with her kid. "If you want to know more about Barba's personal life, you're just going to have to ask him," she said, cocking her head to the side to indicate that the ADA has ended his call and was on his way back to the group.

"Sorry about that," Rafael began to apologize, sliding next to Olivia. "Calhoun called about the Harper case and wanted to meet tomorrow morning to discuss a plea deal that would drop the rape charges down to a misdemeanor. I told her she must've been off her meds and out of her mind if she thought she –" He stopped mid-sentence, noticing everyone else had fallen silent. Rafael's eyes darted around and watched them exchange knowing looks, which severely unsettled the wishfully omniscient ADA. "Did I miss something?"

"You and Calhoun… What's the story behind that?" Munch asked.

For the first time in a while, Rafael was taken off guard. Of all the things, he wasn't expecting for them to be suspicious of the nature of his relationship with Rita. "She's working on the defense," he answered without elaboration, not that he owed it to this team of particularly nosy detectives. As if the job itself wasn't enough; now, they had to pry into his personal life?

"Is that all she's working, counselor?" Sonny asked impishly, wagging his eyebrows.

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Real smooth, Carisi."

"What is going on?" Rafael lowered his head and stared icily at the Fordham law student. "That was a work-related call," he began to explain, before turning his hard eyes at Amanda. "And just because there's a long history of incestuous impropriety within squads in the NYPD does not mean that all lawyers who face off in court sleep with each other."

Amanda swallowed hard, her back straightening against the seat. Nick blinked several times before his right hand reappeared from under the table to clasp firmly around his other hand.

"So, that's a no?" Sonny asked.

Rafael narrowed his eyes.

"Not even hate sex, counselor?"

Flabbergasted, Rafael's mouth fell open as he turned to the unlikely person who posed the question. Olivia smirked at him, a twinkle in her eye, as she raised her beer to her lips.

* * *

Targeting the ADA and unraveling the mystery of his personal life proved to be fruitless. Unfortunately, the vultures weren't yet satiated by their thirst for gossip so they shifted their attention to new prey and feasted on the breadcrumbs of Olivia's relationship with Elliot Stabler. They figured the topic was fair game since little Stabler, as she was now eponymously called, was about to join their crew. Lizzie, along with two other more experienced bartenders, were scheduled to work in shifts and ensure that patrons were properly drunk and spending their money in the bar. And with little Stabler starting her new job at The Grassy Knoll, it made the possibility of a Liv and El reunion certainly more _possible_.

"Have you talked to Elliot?" Don asked Olivia after the rest of the squad eagerly briefed him on the developments of their new hire.

"No. And just because I'm going to see Lizzie on a regular basis doesn't mean that I necessarily have to see her father. El's made his choice to live in the boondocks and stay out of my – no, _our_ lives," she said, emphasizing the fact that he had not only walked out on her but on all of them. He worked with them for over a decade. And although he worked most closely with Olivia, it was still awful of him not to give the rest of the team a proper goodbye.

Fin didn't _really_ care either way. He seldom got along with the guy, and when they disagreed, it could get flat out aggressive to the point where Elliot was able to crack his normally chill exterior. Sure, he could admit that Elliot's abrupt departure and disappearance off the grid was concerning and maybe a little hurtful. The least the man could do was say goodbye in person and shake his hand. But, honestly, Fin shouldn't have been surprised that Elliot had too much pride to do the bare minimum.

Olivia sighed. "I don't care as long as he doesn't think it suddenly makes it perfectly ok for him to waltz back into my life."

"Fair enough." Rafael nodded in agreement.

"Let me get this straight," said Sonny, holding his finger up to pause the conversation. "I've heard lots of conflicting stories about you two, sawge. And – uh, hope I'm not oversteppin' – but did you and Stabler have a thing?"

Half the occupants of the table suffered from sudden and powerful coughing fits. Nick, who was sitting to Sonny's right, elbowed him on the side.

"Ow!" he cried out at the sharp jab to his appendix. "What'd I say?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and grumbled. "No, Carisi. Elliot and I did not have a _thing_ … He was my partner for twelve years and then he retired and disappeared without explanation after an unfortunate shootout in the squad room."

"Oh… That's it?" Sonny replied skeptically, his mouth twisting into a frown. "Because I thought it was a lot more serious than that."

"What do you mean?" Olivia scowled.

"The way people talk about him, or _not_ talk about him… it's like he's freaking Voldemort!"

"Harry Potter analogies?" Barba arched his brows in incredulity. "Really, Carisi?"

"I thought he did something terrible and unforgivable, you know? Not that leaving without sayin' goodbye is a nice thing by any means, but the way you guys talk about him… it's like he killed your parents, gave you a lightnin' bolt-shaped scar, and made the last seven years of your life a living hell. And don't get me started on how some of you don't even say his name out loud. Like, just start officially calling him He-who-must-not-be-named or You-know-who."

Olivia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Someone please tell me I'm having a nightmare."

"Elliot Stabler and Voldemort walk into a bar," Nick started, looking up at the ceiling as if he was really pondering the punch line of this ad-libbed joke. "Liv, hypothetically, who would you _Avada Kedavra_? The archenemy of Harry Potter who's murdered a good chunk of his friends or your former partner?"

"My former partner," Olivia answered without missing a beat. "And just so we're clear, I'm referring to you, Nick."

The playful smirk on his face shattered, replaced by a puppy dog pout.

Sonny stroked his chin and wondered out loud. "Never pictured you for a Harry Potter fan, Amaro."

"I've had a lot of free time since I was shot… I watched Gil's DVD box set in two days."

"Man, the books are so much better," Sonny whined.

"Dude, I just started reading them!" Nick said excitedly, earning a swift elbow to the appendix from Amanda.

* * *

Fin excused himself from the boys fangirling over four-eyed and ginger-haired wizards to refill the pitchers. He was trying to figure out how to work the tap when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Amanda leaning against the bar with her arms crossed. "Yeah?"

"What's going on, Fin?" she asked, lowering the volume of her voice. "You've been acting all weird. You can't even look at me."

"Don't know what you're talking about.

Amanda rested her hand on her hip and pursed her lips. "You sure about that?"

Fin shrugged, pretending to be oblivious. There was a reason why he preferred staying out of people's business despite his job as a detective. Besides not getting paid to be meddlesome, part of why he didn't like getting involved in his co-workers' personal lives was because of these inevitable awkward confrontations. It wasn't like he was deliberately trying to dig up dirt on his partner; it was an accident. And now, she had caught on to the shift in his demeanor and how he could barely look at her (without picturing her in that compromising position). It would've been fine maybe five years ago when she was this hot blonde who transferred from Atlanta; but now, she was like his littler sister – one who made some questionable choices regarding her spending habits and dating pool.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked with an innocence that was so unlike her. He could tell that it really bothered her that he was acting weird, when they were usually so cool about everything.

Fin set the pitcher down and planted his palms on the bar. "Look, Amanda, before you get mad at me, I just want to say that I didn't mean to see it—"

"—See what?"

"While I was going over the bar list the other day, I accidentally closed the file and so I went looking for it… in the spreadsheet folder…" Fin trailed off, noticing the sudden change in her expression from curiosity to sheer horror. She clamped her hand over her mouth, her blue eyes shining brightly from shock. "I only saw a couple seconds before I closed it."

"What did you see?"

"Your bare ass…"

She sunk her head in her hands, her cheeks burning crimson. Peeking through her fingers, she grimaced at the thought of her partner seeing her in that position. "You didn't see him, did you?"

Fin's eyes widened as he fervently shook his head. He looked past her to watch Nick and Sonny still rambling on about some magic map or _whatever_ , too preoccupied to notice the much more interesting discussion behind the bar. "No, man," Fin replied. "I turned that shit off before I saw your boyfriend's junk… You two – sickos," he said, shaking his head like a disappointed father.

Amanda sighed in relief, but it was only temporary before she tensed back up once she remembered that the man in front of her had practically seen her naked.

"Rollins." He leaned in to whisper. "You got Amaro to make a sex tape with you?"

She placed her finger to her lips and hissed. Turning around, she made sure no one was creeping over her shoulder or standing within earshot of the conversation. "It didn't take a lot of convincing after I, uh, made a couple of videos by myself."

"He was a big fan?" Fin chuckled.

"Shut up and don't tell anyone… No one else knows—"

"—About you and Nick? Yeah, about that… Hate to break it to you, partner, but everyone knows you two have been fucking for over a year now."

"No we haven't… It just started after he filed for his transfer," Amanda mumbled, denial clear as day in the way she scratched her wrist.

Fin tilted his head, picked up the pitchers, and started to sing quietly as he walked past her and back to the table. " _Why the fuck you lyin'? Why you always lyin'? Mmmmmm, oh my god, stop your fucking lyin'."_


End file.
